


Antivenom

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Other: See Story Notes, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Sickfic, i swear i don’t have a snot kink, just a domesticity kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22782373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Felix and Sylvain have swapped more colds than they can count, but they handle them in very different ways. Felix pretends the cold doesn’t exist, and Sylvain? Sylvain treats colds from Felix like spider bites.Or, Sylvain seeks out some unorthodox treatment for his cold.(see end notes for a minor content warning/precaution)
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 88





	Antivenom

**Author's Note:**

> just sylvain jose gautier giving enthusiastic head with a minor head cold

Cold season had fallen upon Garreg Mach. 

Felix didn’t have time for colds, so he simply refused to acknowledge them. The tickle in his throat didn’t stop him from training, and if he happened to sleep in ten minutes later than usual, he worked ten minutes longer to make up for it.

It was a matter of dominance. He would never let the enemy take him prisoner; why should a cold be any different? _Mind over matter,_ Felix told his comrades. _Don’t let the cold control you._

Within the span of a day, his cold was gone. But no matter how many times he explained his philosophy to Sylvain, it just didn’t sink in.

“ _Feeelix..._ ” 

Felix followed the nasally, miserable call of his name to Sylvain’s room. The oaf was in bed with a wet cloth on his forehead, a handkerchief shoved up his nose, and the covers drawn to his chin. 

“Pathetic.” Felix leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “I told you not to let the cold win.”

“Cut me some slack,” Sylvain moaned. “You’re the one who got me sick.”

Memories of their sparring session two days ago flooded Felix’s mind, and it was no use pretending his blush was related to his anger.

In his defense, Felix hadn’t intended for their match to end like it had: pants strangling their thighs, shirts hiked up to their armpits, kissing and jerking each other off like their lives depended on it.

Felix hadn’t even been showing symptoms at the time, but Sylvain didn’t have to go and—Felix gulped— _lick the come off his chest_ like some kind of wild animal. Just thinking the words made his neck hot beneath his collar.

They had been...releasing tension together since their five year reunion, but always through their clothes. Felix would take what he could get. He figured was only a matter of time before Sylvain got bored with him, but instead, it kept escalating.

This was the first time either of them had brought it up. 

But regardless of how he had caught the cold, Sylvain hamming up every minor illness was nothing new. As children, they’d passed colds around like toys. Felix, Ingrid, and Dimitri would sneeze once and be done with it, but Sylvain would be laid up with the very same bug for a week. He claimed it was his immune system but Felix knew the truth.

Sylvain liked being doted on.

And, like a fool, here was Felix, tucking his blankets around his shoulders and legs and refilling his Seiros tea on the hour. 

“You’re so good to me, Felix,” Sylvain sighed, settling into his bed and closing his eyes. Felix pressed the back of his hand to Sylvain’s neck and frowned. 

“You feel hot,” Felix said. “I’m getting a healer.”

“No, don’t leave!” Sylvain freed his hand from the covers and grabbed Felix’s. Even though squinted eyes, Sylvain looked desperate. “You can heal me.”

Clearly, the fever was making him delirious. 

“It’s not like healing a cut on the battlefield, you half-wit. I don't know the right spells.”

“I don’t need spells." If Felix didn’t know better, he would say Sylvain was moaning. “All I need is your magic cock.”

_ My magic— _

Only pity kept Felix from shouting at him. That had to be the fever talking; even Sylvain wasn’t that hard up. 

“The poison is the antidote,” Sylvain went on, writhing beneath the blankets. “Like a spider bite.”

_ Did he just compare my penis to a spider?!  _ “You’re the one who—” But Felix couldn’t finish his own sentence. “Forget it. Go to sleep.”

“Felix, wait!” Sylvain’s sore throat was a blessing from Sothis herself because no one but Felix heard his hoarse cry of, “Give me your antivenom!”

When Felix returned with the healer, Sylvain had cast his upper half free from his covers, but his mouth (and shirt) hung open in slumber. His cold compress and handkerchief had fallen on the floor. Gently, Felix drew the blankets back up, then stepped back to let the healer work. 

A mumbled, “ _Fe,_ ” escaped Sylvain’s pale lips, but he didn’t stir. 

“He should be feeling better in the morning,” the healer told Felix before taking her leave.

Felix swept Sylvain’s damp hair out of his eyes, fingertips just grazing his forehead. Just this once, he allowed himself a long look.

The color was already starting to come back to Sylvain’s cheeks, and though he snored, he seemed to be breathing easier. _Good._ Sylvain might have let the cold win, but he needed his rest.

And as affection and concern swirled in Felix’s chest, it occurred to him that, whatever they were doing, they weren’t just friends releasing tension together anymore.

Felix felt the sudden urge to go break something. 

When someone rapped on his door the next morning, the last person he expected to see was Sylvain.

“You’re up.” Felix frowned at him from across the threshold. “You shouldn’t be.”

“I’m better, thanks to you!” Sylvain did look more like himself, but his voice was still lost in his nose. “And I really want to repay you.” 

“Fine,” Felix conceded. “Meet me on the training grounds in fifteen minutes.” 

That hopeful smile fell, but it landed somewhere smarmy and seductive. “That’s not what I meant and you know it, Felix.” 

Yesterday’s blush came creeping back. Surely Sylvain didn’t remember that nonsense he had spouted before the fever broke, but his wicked grin said otherwise. Felix wrinkled his nose.

“You’re sick.”

Sylvain crossed into his room. “That’s not what you said when I had my hands down your pants the other day.”

“No.” Felix kept his voice firm, but he didn’t back away. He did, however, try to hide his blush. “You’re still congested, you idiot.”

Sylvain was too close to fool. He brushed Felix’s sleep-mussed hair out of his face and purred, “Then I guess it's time for my medicine.” 

He closed the door behind him with his foot and Felix cursed his racing heart. His cotton shirt and pants seemed even flimsier in Sylvain’s hands, shifting over his skin until his body was alight with goosebumps.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Felix.” 

Sylvain’s eyes snared his soul and Felix reached for his cheek in spite of himself. Sylvain really did seem better. _Healing magic works fast,_ he thought, angling up for a kiss.

Just before their lips touched, Sylvain sucked in a rattling snort through his nose. 

Felix curled his lip in disgust and pushed Sylvain away. “Go back to bed.” 

“I’m sorry!” Sylvain wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I’m fine, I promise! You don’t have to kiss me, just let me suck your dick!”

Those words connected like a knockout punch, leaving Felix dizzy even though Sylvain was the one with the head cold. 

Sylvain used Felix’s stunned silence against him, implored him with wide eyes and a curled finger under his chin. “Please, Felix? I dreamed about you all last night, and I’ve been wanting to do it for even longer.” 

Somehow, that confession was even more staggering. “You have?” 

“For years, Felix.” And Felix could see the tension rolling off of Sylvain’s shoulders as he confessed. “I thought you only saw me as a friend until pretty recently.” 

Well. That put their sparring sessions in contex.

Goddess, Sylvain was so stupid, Felix was so stupid, and every second he wasn’t kissing Sylvain’s stupid, snot-nosed face was another second wasted. 

Felix grabbed him by his shirt and did his best to kiss him breathless. Given the congestion, it didn’t take long, but Sylvain didn’t pull back. It wasn’t until Felix tasted something salty, wet, and decidedly not from Sylavin’s mouth that he tore away. 

“We can do  _ that _ when you’re feeling better.” Felix tried to make it clear he wasn’t talking about kissing.

Although kissing was good, too. 

“But Felix,” Sylvain whined. “I can’t wait that long.” He slid his hand down Felix’s abdomen. Half-hard in his sleep pants, Felix angled his hips away from his wandering fingers, but the secret was out. Sylvain let out a low hum and slinked the rest of his way down Felix’s body until he was kneeling on the floor. 

_ I am going to burn for this, _ Felix thought. But if this made Sylvain happy (and, given the smug smile on his face, it certainly seemed to), it would be worth it. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to relax until Sylvain sniffled again. 

Felix growled in self-directed frustration. How could he have considered Sylvain’s offer for even a second? Sylvain needed sleep, not sex. “Get up. You’re disgusting like this.” 

But Sylvain just pulled his pants down and squeezed his bare ass. “You don’t have to worry about me, Felix. I can hold my breath for a really long time.”

That stupid wink, the hand on his ass, and the way Sylvain’s breath seemed to curl around his cock combined forces to make Felix eat his words. Why was it Sylvain could always see right through his protests to his true heart? The truth being he was worried about Sylvain, not that he desperately needed Sylvain to suck him off. 

“I feel fine, thanks to you,” Sylvain continued, tracing the curve of Felix’s rear down to his thigh. “Now let me make you feel good.”

Only Sylvain could read a nod so imperceptible. 

Felix almost jumped when Sylvain pressed a soft kiss to his cock. But Sylvain didn’t stop; he just gripped Felix’s leg tighter to steady him and continued his exploration.

_ Deep breaths, _ Felix thought as Sylvain nudged along the base of his dick with his nose, but that just reminded him that Sylvain couldn’t breathe right now (which was a massive turn off).

Then, Sylvain flattened his tongue to Felix’s shaft and dragged it all the way up to the tip, and Felix forgot how to breathe altogether. A guttural, unnatural noise burst from his throat. Sylvain’s response transcended words; it was pure lingual pleasure. All of Felix’s blood rushed to his dick. Oh, he could he get off like this, all right. And it was going to be quick. A few strokes of Sylvain’s wrist had him fully erect, and his knees went weak when Sylvain thumbed his slit.

Sylvain kneaded his ass with both hands and murmured, “I’ve got you,” soft and low, so close to the head of his cock the words became kisses. Felix shuddered. If he could barely handle this, how was he going to handle being inside Sylvain’s mouth?

Not well, it turned out. 

“Ah— _fuck!_ ” Or that was what Felix tried to say before Sylvain’s lips closed around the tip and his voice gave out. Did Sylvain still have a fever? Because Felix had never felt heat like this before, radiating from his cock to his core. Sylvain pushed deeper and white-hot pleasure shot all the way through Felix’s heels to the floor. 

Sylvain worked his mouth up and down, down, _down_ on his dick, stoking the fire higher with every beat. Felix didn't even remember weaving his hands into Sylvain’s hair, but now that they were there, a little pressure on his scalp was all Felix could manage. It must have been all right, because Sylvain rewarded him with appreciative hums that made his legs sway. 

Still gripping Felix's ass with one hand, Sylvain urged his legs apart with the other so that he could tease his balls. Noises spilled unchecked from Felix’s lips as he fought to keep his stuttering hips steady. It was no use; Sylvain just sucked in a harsh breath through his mouth and swallowed him deeper, fingers pressing hard on his taint.

Glancing down to check on him was a mistake. Sylvain’s nose was running with abandon, but the sheer delight in his eyes and the tiny strip of dick that didn't fit in his mouth made for too powerful an image. One finger brushing his rim tipped the balance. Felix came down Sylvain’s throat with a silent gasp.

Pleasure obscured his senses, and for an immeasurable, transcendent moment, all he could comprehend was Sylvain holding him tight and sucking him clean.

Somehow, Sylvain knew when to pull off without a word from Felix. Once he felt ready to move again, Felix tested his fingers in Sylvain’s hair. The orgasm had snapped him in half out of nowhere, and he felt guilty for coming without warning Sylvain. 

Then again, Sylvain hadn’t so much as coughed when he'd swallowed—a forcible reminder that this was not his first blowjob, not even close. But then Sylvain was nuzzling Felix's quaking thighs and it didn’t matter. 

“Wow…” Sylvain took a deep breath through his nose. “That was even better than magic. My sinuses are totally clear!”

If the room wasn’t still spinning, Felix might have pushed him over, but he needed to hold on to Sylvain to keep himself upright. Words were impossible; he couldn’t even make his grunt sound indignant.

“It was even better than I thought it would be,” Sylvain went on. “Normally, I don’t like the taste, but yours is pretty mild."

Sylvain was so embarrassing, but Felix couldn’t suppress an absurd spike of pride.

“That’s because you have a cold, idiot,” he managed to reply. “You can’t taste anything.”

“Guess we’ll just have to test that theory later.” 

Felix looked past Sylvain’s wink to the bulge in his pants and another, smaller wave of desire rolled through him. “Sylvain. You’re—”

“Another time.” Sylvain cleared his throat and snuffled again. “I’m too sick for that.”

Felix’s fists tightened reflexively in Sylvain’s hair. He let go the moment Sylvain yelped, but he was still pissed off. “You idiot! I told you!”

Shakily, Sylvain rose to his feet, and Felix steadied him by the waist. There was something more to the playful look in his eyes, something that tempered Felix’s anger. 

“Don’t think for a second you’re not worth it,” said Sylvain as he pulled Felix closer. “I’ve been waiting a long time to take you apart like that. I wasn’t about to let a silly little cold stop me.”

Affection swelled in Felix's heart again, mixed with a little more pride. Maybe Sylvain had learned a thing or two from him after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was inspired by the sad state of feeling horny while you have a cold, and because i wanted to try writing a blowjob. but right after i finished it, i started to worry that it might upset or offend someone given the 2019 novel coronavirus outbreak. rest assured that this story has absolutely nothing to do with the current outbreak and in no way makes light of the situation. maybe i'm being too sensitive, but i just wanted to put that out there so readers can make that call.
> 
> i guess i should also mention that this fic involves sylvain voluntarily and eagerly sucking felix off with snot all over his face, which is actually pretty gross now that i think about it, but i have no beta so who’s gonna stop me?


End file.
